


Four Weddings And A Cross-Match

by Cerdic519



Series: When In Brome [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, AUSTEN Jane - Works, Game of Thrones (TV), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Brome - Freeform, Embarrassment, England (Country), Exhaustion, F/M, Family, Happy Ending, Illegitimacy, Illnesses, Infidelity, London, Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Money, Mpreg, Period Typical Attitudes, Politics, Pregnancy, Romance, Teasing, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: The later adventures of Monseigneur Bronn Lannister and what is left of his alpha Mr. Jaime Lannister, who has spent the last decade and a half learning that no more kids most definitely does not mean no more..... you know. It is 1830 and the reform movement is on the march, backed very publicly by a Derbyshire omega and his alpha – if said alpha knows what is good for him!





	1. Some Things Change....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celinashope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinashope/gifts), [SouthronWildling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthronWildling/gifts), [Kienie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienie/gifts).

**January 1830**

I smiled as our carriage drew up outside Pemberley, glad to be back after visiting the Imp and Drogo in their new home next to the smithy (yes I had paid for it, and not, not solely because my mate had told me to). It was a cold winter's day and I was tired, looking forward to some peace and....

Lord above, Bronn was giving me the Look again! I shuddered in fear of what to come. Me repeatedly, I knew from experience.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

Some time later – I always lost track after our sessions, and definitely not because I was now forty-eight years old! - what was left of me lay in our bed. It was most unfair that my beloved, despite being four months older than me, was unaffected after having dragged three orgasms out of me in short order and had gone for some food leaving the wreckage of his alpha behind him. I would have frowned but that would use far too many facial muscles.

As I lay there gasp.... collecting myself, I reflected on the past decade. My cousin Edwy had married Lord Christian Darlington, and the two were now living just outside the Durham town of Stockton not far from the omega's family. I had not laughed at all when Edwy had told me in a letter that his beloved's five brothers, all alphas, had come round to visit 'for a chat', and if I had no omega had been there to see it (although I had somehow still got a sharp look when I had come down afterwards). Edwy was now the proud father of an alpha and two girls; Bronn and I had both been pleased that although he was loving towards them all he especially cherished young Swithun, who had contracted almost every illness known to Man in his first two years but was now a healthy young boy.

Our family had seen two departures from this mortal coil at this time, the first of whom had been my uncle the earl in 1822. His son the viscount had duly succeeded him, and although his predecessor had not been overly happy at his youngest son marrying 'a mere omega' he had become reconciled to Edwy before his end and had left him a sum of money which I knew my cousin valued greatly.

After being largely driven back from the Gag Acts by public pressure, the Liverpool administration actually seemed to become more reform-minded in its latter years. In 1823 they reduced the number of capital crimes by over a hundred, and also instituted some improvements to the gaol system. My beloved welcomes both changes and marked them by..... save to say I only just made it to 1824! That year was marked by a great storm along the south coast which caused widespread damage although mercifully little loss of life.

In 1825 my beloved's mother had died, and I had had a horrible moment when I had feared that he might invite one or both of his remaining brothers up from Hertfordshire permanently. Fortunately I was able to find them both a house in London (even further away!), with very different results. Marcus met and married one Mr. Hezekiah Potter, a beta who worked at the British Museum in the library department; I would have snarked about him finding someone as boring as he was, but my mate would Not Have Liked It and I was a considerate alpha after all. The two had married leaving the last brother Robert (the obnoxious Darius Wickham's widower) on his own. An unwise move perhaps, as the latter had drifted into a life of crime and late in 1826 had been found floating face-down in the Thames. Not exactly a great loss to Mankind if truth be told.

Incidentally there had also been a general election that same year, but the Whigs were still hopelessly divided so there had been little change. The following year however Lord Liverpool had suffered a stroke and had been forced to stand down, leading to a short-lived administration under the mercurial George Canning. He too was ill however and died after just four months, leadership passing to Viscount Goderich. Unable to hold the party together – the more centrist Tories were now inclining towards reform, plus at this time there was still a substantial independent block – he quit after just five months and gave way to Wellington, the victor at Waterloo.

It was 1828 by this time, a year that saw another familial loss. My great-aunt finally sailed off to begin organizing Heaven to her satisfaction (a certain omega was most cruel to suggest she was headed somewhere rather warmer!). Unfortunately her passing left her finances in a complete mess, especially as she had only held a life-interest in Rosings which passed to a cousin of hers. I had to step in to secure the future of her grand-daughter Diana and her husband Tom and not solely because some bossy omega told me I had to. It was as a result of this that, a few months back, their second son Edward, a fourteen-year-old beta, had come to work on the estate where he had proven a bright young lad.

Finally there had been one more familial death – I cannot bring myself to use the term 'loss' - two weeks ago at the end of the previous year. Following a stormy on-off relationship with Mr. Peter Bayliss, my cousin Kersey had finally married the fellow, and despite being not far short of fifty she had become pregnant. Sadly she and the child both lost their lives at the birth; I stepped in to discharge her inevitable debts but I would not lift a finger for the rogue she had paired up with. And my mate fully agreed with me over tha......

He was back already? And looking at me like..... oh no! Lord have mercy!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

The Lord did not. Again!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

It was some weeks later. I limped slowly across to the breakfast-table, hoping that the smirking ha'p'orths that were my family knew about that thing called disinheritance, and wishing that my mate could not shake his head like that. I was master in my own home, damnation!

If I told myself that often enough, it might just come true. 

“There is news from London”, a cruel omega mate said far too loudly. “It seems that Prinny has burst his buttons once too often, so now we have old Pineapple Head as a monarch.”

“So disrespectful!” I muttered, crossing the last few miles to my chair.

“I certainly respected you last night!” he pointed out.

“Four times!” Martin muttered. “We all heard!”

I flushed bright red. And there was no need for a certain mate to look so damn proud of himself! Harrumph!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

The death of Prinn....... King George the Fourth meant a general election¹, which looked set to be another mess. The previous year Wellington had threatened to resign if the late king carried out his threat and blocked Catholic Emancipation; fortunately the king had backed down but the effect had been to split the Tories even further. Their main hope, I suspected, was that the Whigs looked even more divided.

My marriage had, inadvertently, caused a small political problem for me. My late father had been a virulent Tory and had come to an agreement with the late earl (who despite his inherent crustiness was actually a Whig) that each would put candidates up for one of the two county seats and not contest the other. This was a common arrangement across England at the time but Bronn, being Bronn, wished me to support the reform movement and he had.... my full attention. The incumbent Tory, an alpha called Rhys Jacobs, was reform-minded, but unfortunately he was standing down because of his age (or as a certain sassy omega snipped, because his wife had told him to!). The local Tories wanted to replace him with a Mr. Kenton Clarke, one of those bossy betas who think they are alphas and that omegas should go back to being kept barefoot, bred and collared. I was of course totally opposed to such views, and not just because my mate told me I was.

Sigh. Who was I kidding? I was totally whipped.

I told Bronn that I would be backing the Whig candidate, a nondescript but reformist alpha called Mr. Peter Goodfellow. He had thanked me and had then said that I deserved a reward... a white, frilly, lacy sort of reward!

It was at times like this that what was left of me wondered about that life insurance policy.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**March 1830**

I was not feeling my age. I was not! Besides, Bronn had just turned forty-nine while I was still only forty-eight, so there!

The cause of my definitely not feeling my age was that our daughter Mary was getting married. Although only just turned nineteen she was a most formidable young lady, and more than one local alpha had learned the hard way that it was not just my beloved who carried a poniard and knew how to use it. 

The previous year she had come south to London with me, as I had several items of business to transact in the capital. One of those had been intended to be with a merchant operating out of the docks, but I had been shocked to find that he used a captured slave as one of his men (at this time the slave trade had been abolished but slavery itself was still legal). My daughter had been more than shocked and had persuaded me to buy the fellow, Ajax, and bring him back to the estate. He was in a poor state but soon recovered, and I was not surprised when earlier this year Mary had informed me that she and he were marrying (and she had had no need to have told me that her papa had given his permission already!). There had inevitably been the odd look and remark from certain less educated people but my beloved had made it clear to our workers that if they felt uncomfortable working under a family who would make such a marriage, they could leave. And if he heard of any remarks made about his new son-in-law, they would be made to leave!

Ajax was a fine figure of an alpha by this time, and I did not at all sniff mournfully as Mary walked down the aisle towards him. Instead I blew my nose in the handkerchief that Bronn had passed me.

“They grow up so fast”, Arthur whispered. “But look on the bright side.”

“What bright side?” I asked not at all testily.

“You will likely be a grandfather before me!”

I _really_ needed to acquire some better friends! And a non-smirking mate while I was at it!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

_Notes:_  
_ 1: General elections were then held at most every seven years, although governments often went to the country early if they felt that they were popular enough or if they just did not want to risk some disaster befalling them closer to the deadline. They could however be caught out by an election caused by the death of the monarch. This practice ended after William IV's death in 1837; a mixture of parliamentary reform and his niece's long reign led to its abolition._


	2. Love-Hate

**September 1830**

General elections, I had always thought, were far too long¹.

“I know something else that is far too long!” grinned someone from across the carriage. I winced as King James swelled against the binding cock-ring, but my bastard of a mate must have chosen the fully resistant one. There may or may not have been a small noise that an uncharitable person (most likely one with blue eyes and an irritating smirk) might have cruelly and maliciously misinterpreted as a whine.

“Stop it!” I grumbled. “I have to ride over to see Arthur tomorrow.”

“You can always take the phaeton²”, he suggested with a smile. “You may need to, come to that.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because after Mr. Goodfellow's win”, he grinned, “I am minded to do some riding of my own!”

My fiftieth birthday was coming up next year, and I had the nagging feeling that I might well not live to see it!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**November 1830**

I sighed and put down the newspaper.

“It looks like you are getting a reformist government after all”, I said. “Wellington has resigned after losing a vote in the Commons, and the King has asked Grey³ to form a new administration.”

“He will find that difficult”, my mate said. “He has less than a third of the chamber with him, although he is a sharp man and may be able to overcome that. Martin, why is Henry not with us at dinner?”

Henry Blackwater-Strickland, the eldest son of our friends Harry and Gendry, was visiting us for a few months. He was twenty years old and well-built for an ome.... for someone of his sub-gender, a quiet lad who for some reason was always arguing with our eldest son over omega rights. Martin was quite conservative, although like me he had the good sense not to voice those opinions in front of his papa.

See? It was not _just_ me!

Our eldest son jumped at his sudden inclusion in the conversation.

“Papa?” he said, wide-eyed. My mate stared sharply at him.

“That is the same look your father gives me when he has done something he is ashamed of”, he said. “The last time I saw that, I found half a coffee-cake had gone 'missing'.”

I blushed at that. Yes, I had an occasional sweet tooth and yes, I had eaten a cake that had surely been about to go off anyway. It had been quite unfair of a certain cruel omega mate to deny me any sexual release for a whole damn week, and it had been even more unfair of several small people who claimed to be our offspring to snigger at my slight discomfiture (all right, I could have broken rocks with King James!). Though that had been nothing compared to when the week had been up. I had had to spend a whole day in bed, having uttered a moderately plaintive cry (_not_ a girly scream as someone claimed!) after Carlton had tried to dress me.

I really wished some smart-arsed omega could cut with the knowing looks, as well!

“Henry asked to have his meal in his room as he has a cough”, Martin said blithely.

It was almost creepy the way in which everyone looked between him and Bronn, waiting for the inevitable. Impressively the boy lasted nearly a whole minute before he broke.

“He is such a pain!” he groaned. “Always whining about something or other he is campaigning for. He really is impossible!”

It was at this point in the conversation that my brain, momentarily and for reasons that could never be established, slipped out of gear.

“Well”, I said, “that is omegas for you.”

Like a tennis match everyone's eyes switched first to me, and then to Bronn. Both Jarvis and Martin crossed themselves, and Nicholas was actually praying!

“I think mealtime is over”, Bronn said with a lazy smile. “I shall go for a walk to allow things to settle and Jaime.....”

“Yes?” I said in a voice at least an octave too high.

“I shall see you in our room at eight!”

Lord have mercy on a loud-mouthed alpha!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

The Lord, as usual, did not!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**March 1831**

I did not pout. I did not sulk. I did not complain. And not because I knew that my mate Would Not Like It and I might not survive another bout of his Displeasure. 

Not _solely_ because of that.

“All that passion had to go somewhere”, grinned a mate who was clearly aiming for a trophy in smugness (and achieving it, damn the fellow!). “Everyone else seems to have seen it.”

A normal dinner scene in most aspects, except that a clearly unhappy Martin was almost halfway to the door in his combined eagerness and distress. Our visitor Henry had, on the day before his departure back south, gone into heat and had had to be moved to Bronn's 'Heat Suite'. Martin was now growling at anyone who even looked like heading to the door, except of course for his papa. 

“I wonder if I can get you growling like that tonight”, Bronn whispered to me. “I have a new set of lingerie up from London – alpha-sized!”

I suddenly found breathing difficult. Then the bastard actually flashed the white lacy panties he was wearing and things got even harder.

And our sons could stop with the damn eye-rolls!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

I said 'sons' because our daughter and our son-in-law were in their own suite on the other side of the house, ready for their own happy event which would make me a.... parent of a parent. And having just installed Martin in my study near the 'Heat Suite', I received a call that the next generation of Lannisters was about to appear. Unfortunately one of the differences between women and omegas was that the former were able to have strange alphas at their births, so Bronn dragged me there and insisted that I hold our daughter's hand while he encouraged her and then had to take care of a certain dark-skinned lummocks who had gone out cold at the first sight of blood and slumped to the floor. Honestly, some alphas!

That had better damn well not be another smirk!

Mercifully the labour was a short one and on that same evening my daughter was delivered of a healthy alpha baby whom she had decided to call Jack. The useless lummocks still out cold did not get a vote, especially after he came round and promptly started blubbering.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**April 1831**

Some things are, I suppose, inevitable in life. Death. Taxes. Governmental abject stupidity.

“As I feared”, my mate sighed. “The Tories have destroyed Grey's attempt at reform. It would have just doubled the electorate to about three-quarters of a million out of seventeen million people in the country, barely five per cent, but even that was too much for them.”

“How?” I asked.

“They kept trying to effect all sorts of changes in committee”, he said. “Each small and inconsequential on its own, but the effect was to neuter the bill as a whole. After he lost one such vote Grey went to the king and demanded a general election; the Tories will take a pounding over this. Although that is not our main issue at hand.”

I was surprised. I had thought he put reform above most things.

“What is?” I asked.

“Harry and Gendry are due here”, he said, “to see their son. Their son who is still in heat.”

Ah.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

Fortunately even an omega in heat will accept a family omega, so Gendry was able to talk with his son even if Martin growled at him for so doing (Bronn made him apologize later, of course). Our friends were delighted the the prospect of a familial union and Martin was duly allowed to traverse the short distance to his future mate.

We did not see him for another four days, and by then he looked absolutely dreadful. I was sure that even I had never looked that bad, and made the mistake of saying so to my mate. He looked at me like.... oh Lord not again!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

Again!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

_Notes:_  
_1: General elections took place over a period of weeks, this one having seen contests between July 29th and September 1st. This remained the case until after World War One._  
_2: Bronn was being particularly cruel here as a phaeton is a racing-carriage with four large wheels and little in the way of suspension. His husband would definitely NOT be taking the phaeton!_  
_3: Charles Grey, Earl Grey (1764-1845). He would only be prime minister for four years but would oversee electoral reform, the abolition of slavery, local government reform and an early Factory Act improving conditions for workers a little. Ironically he is best remembered today for the bergamot-flavoured tea which was presented to him one time and which later took his name; this came about because the herb was strong enough for its flavour to counter the lime in the waters around Howick Hall, the Grey family seat in Northumberland._


	3. Blockages

**June 1831**

It was fortunate that I not the sort of sappy alpha who cried at weddings and the like. Although my intermittent hay-fever seemed worse this year. Indeed it was almost as bad as the smirk on some smart-arsed omega I could mention!

After some discussion Harry and I had decided, with perhaps some input from our beloved mates, that the newly-weds should have Longbourn for their own. This meant Martin being over one hundred and thirty miles away but such are the vagaries of family life. I bore the coming loss well and did not at all sniffle into the handkerchief that my mate passed me.

“Stop sniffling”, he smiled. “At least Mary and Ajax have moved into the East Lodge so we still have them.”

That was true, I thought, as Martin growled his defiance at the congregation and nuzzled into the claiming-mark he had put on his mate the night before. Henry had not let him make the mark in church which was good, as it showed I was not the only alpha who was whipped.

_I was however the only one with a mate who could effect such heavy and judgemental silences, damnation!_

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

A week later and the two of us were headed up for two weeks on the Yorkshire coast, during which we would call in on Tom and Diana in Stockton. Bronn also wanted to take a trip on the new railway¹ that had opened up there a few years back.

“I would have thought you to have been pleased”, I said. “Grey won an actual majority in the Commons, a rare event indeed.”

My beloved frowned.

“I wish it were that simple”, he sighed. “He may if he is lucky get a bill through the Commons, but the Lords² with its massive Tory majority will block it. And that could cause waves as far as Pemberley.”

“How?” I asked, surprised.

“The Lords are not elected”, he said, “and people know the great houses in which their members live. If they try to frustrate the will of the people as expressed in parliament – we have seen the troubles that caused in France only last year. I would hope that people know we are for reform but the mob is an uncertain thing.”

I shuddered and pulled him closer to me.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

I looked around the place and tried not to sniff at it. _This_ was progress?

“I do not see what is so special about this 'Middlesbrough³'”, I said not at all plaintively. “And rail travel is a dirty affair.”

“I wanted to see something from nothing”, my mate smiled.

“What?”

“This place barely existed a few years back”, he explained. “The railway is mostly for goods and they wanted a port to export from, so they created this. Thirty to over two thousand people in under a decade.”

“A pity that someone did not think to do some planning first”, I muttered.

He nudged me but smiled, and we went back to our carriage.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**July 1831**

My fiftieth birthday was... memorable. I had to spend the whole of the day after in bed, recovering! And worse, I was not allowed to sack Carlton when he walked swiftly away guffawing with laughter!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**December 1831**

“Half a year wasted!” my mate sighed as he all but collapsed onto the ottoman. He looked inquiringly at me and I hurried over, thereby missing the knowing smirk on his handsome features.

It really would have been nice for him to at least pretend that I was master of the house. Just the once.

“The Lords?” I hazarded. He nodded.

“Defeated by forty-one votes”, he said quietly.

Too quietly. I pulled back and stared at him warily.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Henry Middleton over at Wollaton⁴ had his place assaulted by a mob”, he said carefully.

I fretted at once.

“That is barely thirty miles from here!” I exclaimed. “And just because he voted the wrong way?”

“The Lords _are_ unelected”, my mate sighed. “There will be a day when they have a final showdown with the Commons, which they will undoubtedly lose. Fortunately it is known that the master of this establishment is firmly in favour of reform.”

I looked up sharply at him. If that was some opening for him to make some (another) snarky comment about who the real master was here.....

Damnation, it was worse! He somehow managed to smirk even more!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

As if the run-up to Christmas was not stressful enough, we had another matter to deal with when Broyn brought his alpha boyfriend in to ask for his hand in marriage. I noted (and did not pout at all at the fact) that he asked for his papa and 'perhaps you might be there too, father'. Harrumph!

Broyn's alpha was one Mr. Christopher Eismann, a solidly built blond hulk of a fellow who had to be at least six foot three and all muscle. I knew that he worked on the estate but he must have lifted horses in his spare time! I stood proudly behind my mate (and the very solid chair he was sitting on) and mused on whether I should give my permi..... Bronn was giving me that look again!

Mr. Eismann was the son of our estate steward, the successor to Mr. Grindon. His widower father had come over from Hanover to England and had been recommended to me, and had proven a good man although I knew that the disparity between our social classes would likely arouse comment over Broyn's choice. Hopefully not anywhere that it would get back to my beloved; I had had to let one beta estate worker called Darren Lemming go after he had made racist remarks about my grandson Jack. And not because Bronn had ordered me to.

“He seems a most affable young fellow”, Bronn smiled once he.... I had given permission for the union. “And we must get the windows fixed.”

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“To stop you shivering!” he grinned.

Seriously, why had I married the fellow?

He looked at me, ran his tongue round his lips then glanced upstairs to our bedroom. Oh yes. That.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**January 1832**

The New Year has started with a bang – literally! - as our son Broyn had had an unexpected heat, and we had had to send for his fiancé Christopher to come over. The young alpha had fairly charged into the hall, and snarled at me as I had directed him to Broyn's room. Worse, he had _not_ snarled at a certain smug mate standing right beside me, instead apologizing to _him_ for his reactions! Harrumph!

“Never mind”, Bronn said as we watched the behemoth lurching up the stairs with what was some way beyond eagerness. “At least we started the year with a bang ourselves!”

I blushed. Now we were both past a certain age I had thought we might be taking things more easily, but somehow my bastard mate had obtained a whole new set of supplies from our favourite London shop, which was why I may have been listing very slightly as we had greeted our soon to be enw family member. And why I had uttered a high-pitched expression of surprise when I had moved behind my mate.

Bronn picked up the letters for the day still smiling, and I limped into the lounge after him.

“We are to have a visitor”, he said, looking puzzled for some reason. “Edwy's brother Edward wishes to call.”

Although I had only met Edward a few times, most notably to arrange what would be the odious Wickham's last appointment, I had as it happened met him a few months back in London. He had been told that having reached fifty-five he would be expected to retire from his administrative post, and I had been able to use my connections to ensure that he was treated rather better than the Army and the government had initially intended.

“What is odd about that?” I asked. “All my cousins are welcome here.”

“You only say that because a certain female cousin is doubtless making Satan wish he were even deader!” he smirked. “No, he says he has news of Carlton's nephew and wishes to communicate it with him.”

That did surprise me. Carlton, who was forty-four at this time, had had a younger sister who had chosen the Napoleonic years as the perfect time to marry a Frenchman, which had cut her off from her English family. Bronn had prompted me to ask Edward to see if he could use his contacts to track down what had happened to the woman, and I had duly obliged.

“It must be bad news”, I sighed. “He would hardly come her in person otherwise.”

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

“A cross-match”, smiled a cruel smirking mate. “They do say the odds are less than one in a hundred thousand.”

I winced as he finished cleaning my scratches. It was known that a well-matched alpha-omega pairing, like we were, would render the alpha in question more possessive than usual, but just occasionally even the Good Lord either made a mistake or tried out His sense of humour, and alphas found themselves attracted to betas. In my cousin Edward's case, stomping all over me so he could chase Carlton upstairs.

My valet had hardly bothered to run, if truth be told. Even so, doing It on the landing..... and why was my mate looking at me like that?

In my haste to divert him from finally ending King James I almost inevitably came out with something stupid.

“A lord humping a servant”, I said. “Never mind the mess those idiots in Westminster are making of things; England has come to this.”

My mate stared pointedly at me.

“I seem to recall a certain alpha once being too prideful to even consider a low-born omega”, he said pointedly. “Does said alpha need to be reminded about the foolishness of such an approach?”

Stupidly I went and compounded my error, for I hesitated. And as they so rightly say, he who hesitates is lost.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

_Notes:_  
_1: The Stockton and Darlington Railway, one of three railways to be able to claim the title of the first passenger-carrying railway. The Swansea and Mumbles Railway had opened in 1807 but had used horse-drawn carriages, while the Stockton and Darlington was primarily a goods line but offered transport for private carriages on low-loaders, more for the novelty that any practical value. The recent (1830) Liverpool and Manchester Railway was the first to used locomotive-drawn coaches, first-class designed like the old stage-coaches and third-class designed like wagons with seats in. Because they were wagons with seats in._  
_2: The House of Lords, the upper house of the British Houses of Parliament. George III and his son George IV had greatly enlarged it by creating many new peerages, most of them Tories virulently against any parliamentary reform, so it had recovered some of its former power. It was finally made subservient to the elected Commons in 1911. _  
_3: As of 2019 the Yorkshire town has a population of about 138,000, with 375,000 in the overall conurbation. _  
_4: The Willoughby family had moved out of the place by the 1880s as the urban growth of nearby Nottingham eroded their privacy. It was later purchased by the town council and opened to the public, and was used as 'Wayne Manor' in the 2011 Batman film _'The Dark Knight Rises'. 


	4. Success!

**February 1832**

I was sure that this room was larger than I remembered it from yesterday. Certainly the distance to my comfortable padded chair had increased considerably and some smart-arsed omega was smirking again, damn the fellow!

The reason for my latest marginally less than perfect togetherness was that we had received news yesterday that we had a second grandchild. Down in Hertfordshire Henry had given birth to a healthy alpha whom he and Martin were to call Harrison. And my mate had insisted on us celebrating the second of the next generation, which was..... 

My eyes widened in unmitigated joy as I saw the lime-green jar on the table.

“Cooling unguent!” I almost purred. “Praise the Lord!”

“Only for after we have eaten, beloved”, Bronn smiled. “We can go to your study and I can apply it..... and make sure that it is working!”

Yet again I worried about that life-insurance policy. It was all him very well saying I would be a proud alpha indeed to have 'Sexed to death by his omega' on his headstone, but much as that way of going appealed I did not wish for it to happen any time soon!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**March 1832**

“Grey has won a huge majority with this latest reform bill”, I said as I read the _'Times'_ that morning. “Surely the Lords cannot block reform any more?”

“He had to give ground on reducing the total number of MPs”, my mate said, “but otherwise he is still aiming to destroy all those rotten¹ and pocket boroughs. Yet I am very much afraid that the Lords _will_ be that stupid.”

There was a high-pitched yelp from the room above, followed by a long pained moan. I recognized that sort of noise all too well.

“Please tell me you did not let Broyn use the Purple One on poor Christopher?” I asked in shock.

Our future (if he survived) son's husband moaned even louder – yes, the interminable one including a yelp when the thing was twisted round making the nodules press down on the victim's prostate – and I winced. Poor, poor Christopher!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**May 1832**

The smugness was off the charts again. I sighed heavily.

“You were right about those idiots in the Lords”, I said. “They have rejected Grey's bill and he has resigned. The King has sent for Wellington.”

“Much good he will do!” Bronn scoffed. “The whole country is against him. I give him three weeks at the most.”

Our son Palamedes came in. Ever since Broyn and Christopher had confirmed that they were expecting (a second heat immediately after the first had nearly done for the poor young alpha!), only a familial omega had been able to visit them and check up on things. 

“They are sleeping”, he said. “Or poor Chris is sleeping, on the floor. Broyn has the same sort of smugness that papa here has far too many mornings!”

I blushed at his words, no matter how accurate they were (approximately one hundred per cent).

“It is always good to establish where one stands in a relationship with an alpha”, Bronn said. “Which reminds me, can you take another message over to Lynton for me, Pal?”

“Of course, papa.”

“And this time try not to dally on the way back. Especially in any cottages where you may encounter certain cousins.”

The young omega blushed, grabbed the note and fled the room.

“What was all that about?” I asked, puzzled.

“He has been secretly seeing Lancelot on his rounds”, my mate grinned.

_”What?”_

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Alphas will be alphas and omegas will be omegas”, he said dismissively. “I know Arthur was hoping Lance would marry that Harriet Middleton, but he cannot stand her although he is too polite to say as much. Edmund knows of course.”

“How?” I demanded.

“Because omegas know these things”, he said. “Much as I know what the next hour will contain. I will be doing some riding.”

“But your horse is still lame...... oh!”

Belatedly I got it. _That_ sort of riding!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

”You are upset.”

I shook my head mulishly. Of course I was not upset. I was just.... all right, I was mildly irritated.

After the latest news from London – widespread riots and even a run on the banks caused by the proponents of reform – I had felt the need to go round the estate and gather the temper of our workers. They, apparently, were fine. The number of times I had been assured that they knew the master of Pemberley was all for reform had been reassuring.

The number of knowing looks that had come _gratis_, all of which had stated very clearly that they were not referring to an alpha as the master of Pemberley, I could have well done without.

“Never mind”, my mate said with a smile. “We have the ball at Edmund's house this evening and there will only be people there we like.”

“Good”, I sighed.

“And I will be wearing the white lacy panties all evening!”

Suddenly I was very short of breath. I gaped at him.

“While you will be wearing the red, white and blue thong!”

Master of my own home. Never going to happen!

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

May was a busy month. A few days later my mate looked up from his newspaper in triumph.

“Grey is back!” he exclaimed. “The king has given way and told the Lords that unless they yield on reform he will create enough new Whig peers to give us a majority in the Upper House. We have won!”

“We should do something to celebrate”, I suggested. Certain body parts shuddered at the suggestion.

“We should”, Bronn agreed. “I was thinking a match-gift.”

“What?” I was confused.

“For Carlton when he and Edward move in together”, he said. “I know that happy as he is, he fears that as a servant he brings nothing to the union while Edward is the brother of an earl, albeit with little to no chance of inheriting the title. I thought something financial to mark his many years of loyal service.”

“That sounds fair enough”, I agreed.

“I am glad”, he smiled, “because I have a new spicy unguent arrived today that I wanted to keep for a special occasion. And your wonderful generosity means that tonight will be a _very_ special occasion!”

I tried hard to control my suddenly rapid breathing. And I failed miserably. Again.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

**June 1832**

It was my mate's moment of triumph, as the Great Reform Act² was finally passed. True, it was a small step towards proper reform and the moves to end women's and omegas' rights to vote in certain circumstances would ultimately provoke exactly the sort of reaction that its proponents did not want, but it was a start.

We also had some most excellent news in that Mary and Ajax were expecting a second child by the end of the year. I did miss having Carlton around, and getting dressed of a morning was taking a lot longer as a certain horny omega insisted on getting involved, which meant I often got _un_dressed several times in the process. I enjoyed it though. After all, we were now both past fifty and we had many years ahead to take life at a relaxed and steady pace.

Oh come on! Two in the afternoon?

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

Two in the afternoon.

۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩۩

_Notes:_  
_1: A pocket borough was one where the local landowner effectively owned the seat, at least if the voters wanted to keep roofs over their heads (secret ballots would not come in until 1872). A rotten borough was one where the population had declined, sometimes to zero. A famous example was Old Sarum, predecessor to Salisbury which had eleven voters who all lived elsewhere but were registered as living in the abandoned town. Hence this was also a pocket borough as the local landowner chose the member of parliament. It was unsurprisingly abolished in the Reform Act._  
_2: Of 203 English boroughs before the Great Reform Act, one single-member and 55 dual-member seats would be abolished completely and a further 32 would lose one of their two members (-143 seats). This was countered by 22 large cities becoming dual-member seats for the first time and a further 21 becoming single-member ones (+65 seats), plus more representation for the counties to win support from anti-reform Tories (+65 seats). One of these latter was Derbyshire which saw its county representation double to four (so its total to six) with the Northern and Southern Divisions of the county each now having two seats._


End file.
